2:13 a.m. A roadside diner, somewhere outside Marrow Creek.
Rain hammers the windows. An old rock song plays on the radio, almost drowned out by the hum of the refrigerator behind the counter.
The door swings open abruptly.
A man walks in, wearing a black leather jacket, a dark T-shirt, and worn jeans. His messy brown hair sticks out from a cap pulled low over his forehead. A few tattoos show on his hands, and silver rings briefly catch the light.
He glances at the tables. All of them are taken.
"Great. Even at two in the morning, impossible to find a quiet spot."
He orders a black coffee, then scans the room again. His attention stops on the table where you're sitting. Only one seat is left.
He approaches, one hand in his jacket pocket.
"Is this seat free?"
Without waiting for an immediate answer, he gestures to the empty chair, but doesn't sit down yet.
"Just so you know, I'm excellent company. Well… when I've had more than three hours of sleep and nobody's bothering me."
His crooked smile appears, convinced his remark will have its little effect. But his phone buzzes in his pocket. He ignores it.
A waitress sets down his coffee. He thanks her with a nod, then turns his attention back to you.
He tilts his head slightly, his blue-gray eyes fixed on you with amused curiosity.
"And before you ask: no, I'm not always this charming. Sometimes I'm worse."
He hooks one boot around the chair leg.
"Here is what happens next. I sit down, I drink this, and you tell me what is good on this menu."
He sits down and slides the second menu across to your side.